Fabulous
by Wraith Ink-Slinger
Summary: Reid could handle being propositioned by hookers, but gay clubbers are something else entirely. And Morgan certainly isn't helping. Oneshot, not slash.


Fabulous

A/N: Hello again! As I promised, something a little longer after the extra-short "Geek Humor". Also, currently, I am planning… (drum roll, please) a multi-chapter story! …Sorry, enough of that. On with the story! Enjoy!

Warning-thing: There are stereotypical gay men in this story. It is meant to be funny, I do not mean to insult anyone. I am sorry if anyone takes offense to this story, but it's just that: a story. It's meant to be taken lightly.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable that may or may not be mentioned in this story, including, but not limited to: Criminal Minds, the characters, a gay bar, or Seattle. I do have a feather boa, though.

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_Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands? ~Ernest Gaines_

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Reid shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Morgan pulled into the parking lot of the popular club, "The Feather Boa." A serial killer who was murdering gay men had brought the BAU to Seattle, and Morgan and Reid to this popular hang-out for gays.

It wasn't that homosexuality made Reid uncomfortable, after all, he had grown up in Las Vegas. One of the only friends he had had during his time in high school was one of the only openly gay boys at school. They had become friends, if only because they were both outcasts. Reid didn't even mind that several agents seemed to think that _he_ was gay. It was none of their business and he had learned to stop caring what people he barely knew thought of him.

The thing that bothered Reid was that he knew he didn't look much like an FBI agent and if Morgan left him alone in that club, he would be taken for a patron of the club and it wouldn't be long before someone tried to talk to him. Prostitutes were bad enough; Reid wasn't sure he could handle being hit on by gay men.

All the same, it was his job to go into this club and find any possible witnesses or suspects and catch the serial killer. He certainly wasn't going to complain, especially if Morgan wasn't.

Steeling himself, Reid followed Morgan into the club and allowed the music to wash over him in waves. The two men stopped and watched the sheer flamboyant nature of the club. "Okay, I'm going to go talk to the owner, you get out there and talk to some people. I'll join you in a couple minutes." Morgan said loudly over the music, patting Reid reassuringly on the shoulder and heading towards the manager's office.

Reid struggled to call Morgan back, say that he would rather go with him and not be left on his own, or anything, but by the time he regained his voice, Morgan had disappeared. Reid sighed. He hated clubs and this one was no exception. However, it was the task he had been given and he wouldn't shy away from it.

Walking up the bar, where it was quieter, Reid stood next to the only person currently sitting there and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, can I- uh- have a word with you?" He asked.

The man turned to face Reid and his eyes lit up. "_Well_. Forget one word, Honey; you can have as many as you want." The man told him, smiling.

"Um- right- I- uh- I'm here looking for- uh- there's, um…" Reid quickly grew flustered under the sultry gaze the man was giving him.

"There's no need to be so shy. Tell me, what's a sweet thing like you doing here all by yourself?" The man asked.

"I, uh, actually I'm…" Reid tried to speak again.

"Why don't we start with names, Sweetie? Mine's Terry, what's yours?"

Reid realized there was really no other way to get a word in edgewise and went for broke. "I'm supervisory special agent Spencer Reid and I'm looking for a serial killer. If you could listen to part of a profile and tell me if you've seen anyone around who fits the description, it would be a big help." Reid said in a rush, pulling his badge out.

Terry stared at him for a moment before regaining his flirtatious demeanor. "Well, why didn't you say so, _special agent_? I'd be happy to help. Shoot."

"Okay, uh, the man we're looking for looks something like this," Reid said, handing Terry a poster with a sketch on it. "He's between the ages of 25 and 35 and about as tall as me. He's confident and charming, people would feel at ease around him. He brags but he doesn't listen to other people talk. He seems easy going but he has an explosive temper; the smallest thing would set him off: someone spilling his drink, tripping him, even a refusal to talk or dance with him. He probably usually comes here on Friday nights and he always leaves with someone."

Reid completed his explanation and waited for Terry to respond. The other man's eyebrows knit together in concentration before a look of understanding came to his face. "I know _exactly_ who you're talking about!" He said excitedly.

"You do?" Reid's eyebrows went up. "Great, what's his name?"

"I don't know."

Reid's face fell in disappointment. "But I know someone who does. Julian knows everything that goes on in this place." Terry assured Reid.

"Okay… where can I find Julian?" Reid asked, wondering whether he really wanted to know.

"I'll take you to him!" Terry stood up, grabbed Reid by the arm and began pulling him through the crowd of dancers.

There were a couple of calls from people who obviously knew Terry, congratulating him on "catching" Reid, until Terry hushed them. "He's here to catch that killer." He explained, still moving across the dance floor with Reid in tow.

Finally, they reached a row of tables against the back wall of the club. The music was not quite as loud here as it had been on the dance floor. "There," Terry said, pointing to a table full of people in the corner. "That's Julian."

Terry and Reid walked up to the table and caught the attention of the man who seemed to be the center of attention. "Goodness, Terry, who's this handsome young man you've found?" The man purred, smiling at Reid, who blushed profusely.

"Julian, this is _special agent_ Spencer Reid. He's here to catch that awful serial killer." Terry explained.

"Oh, are you, now? And what do you need from me, special agent Spencer?" Julian asked.

Reid quickly gave the description he had given to Terry and watched as Julian nodded in understanding than looked back up at Reid. "Well, Spencer, I know exactly who you're talking about. I even know his name. And I'll tell you too, but you have to answer a question for me first." The man told him.

Reid thought for a second. Surely no harm could come from answering a question and there was nothing Julian could ask him that wouldn't be worth the name of their serial killer. At least, he hoped not. "What question?" Reid asked warily.

"Are all FBI agents as cute as you?" Julian smiled seductively.

Reid gaped for a moment, attempting to locate an appropriate answer when he heard someone call his name. "Reid! How're you doing? Do you have any witnesses?" Morgan came up to the table, standing next to Reid.

Julian turned his attention to Morgan. "Are you an FBI agent too?" He asked.

"Yeah, SSA Derek Morgan." Morgan flashed his badge, looking from Reid to Julian and back again, wondering what, exactly, he had just walked into.

Julian's eyebrows went up and his smile grew. "Well, I guess that answers my question, doesn't it? The man you're looking for is named Stewart Benton. I don't know where you can find him on a Saturday night, but I'm sure you can figure that out for yourselves."

Morgan still looked confused, but Reid finally found his voice. "Thank you for your help." Was all he managed before he and Morgan turned to leave.

"Oh, and Spencer?" Julian called after the two agents.

Reid paused and turned back slightly. "Feel free to come back soon, sweetheart!" Julian told him as Terry waved enthusiastically.

Reid struggled to stop blushing as he left the club, a smirking Morgan in tow. When they finally emerged into the cool night air, he felt like he could breathe again as he headed back to the car.

"Hey, Reid." Morgan called, catching up to him. "You sure you don't want to go back? Seems like you made some friends."

Morgan grinned and watched as Reid blushed for the umpteenth time that night and got into the car. Shaking his head, Morgan started up the government vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot. Maybe now Reid would finally let him set him up on a date…

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_People sometimes think I'm gay because I once played a gay in a movie. It's funny. Audiences don't think you're a murderer if you play a murderer, but they do think you're gay if you play a gay. ~Perry King_

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A/N: Hm… it didn't turn out exactly as I had hoped, but, then again, does it ever, really? Anyway, this is kind of my response to all those people who think poor Reid is gay. He's definitely awkward, but I just don't think the poor man is gay… but, whatever. I hope you guys enjoy this while I struggle to write a multi-chapter story. Review, if you like!


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